


Klance Month 2020

by kick_still_kickin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), DnD AU, Gay Disaster Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay Panic, Keith (Voltron)-centric, Keith/Lance (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Monsters and Mana, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), thunderpike
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22094629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kick_still_kickin/pseuds/kick_still_kickin
Summary: A month-long writing challenge that will actually be the death of me and will not be updated on any kind of schedule. I am taking this as a personal challenge to myself and will continue to update until I finish all the prompts. Go nuts ¯\_(ツ)_/¯https://monthlyklance.tumblr.com/post/189709335101/klance-au-month-january-2020-every-day-is
Relationships: Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Matt Holt & Keith
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. Day 1 - Royalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's aversion to his royal duties cause a real headache for his personal guard, until one Altean prince changes his mind.

“You have to go,” Shiro insisted. “You’re the Prince of Marmora.”

Keith continued hacking at the dummy, unbothered. “If I’m a prince, how can anyone make me do anything?”

“We are the hosting country!” Shiro cried out. “The ball will take place in our very own castle, and you can’t be bothered to attend?”

“That’s correct,” Keith shot back, effectively ending the conversation.

The guard ran his fingers through his hair. He’d all but assured the queen he could get her wayward son to attend in her place. If only he could turn back time to that very moment and tell himself the inevitable truth: no one but his mother could get the prince to do anything he didn’t want to do.

Unless…? A stray thought crossed his mind. “Your Highness, I have a proposition for you.”

“Shiro, I’m not-”

“Best me in a duel,” Shiro challenged. The hesitation in the prince’s features gave him the courage to push forward. “If you can best me in a duel, I’ll drop it.”

A third party might describe Keith’s answering grin as scary. “Deal.”

“You haven’t even heard the full terms,” Shiro chided.

“Don’t need to,” Keith scoffed. “You said you’d leave me alone after I win.”

Shiro glared at him half-heartedly. “If you win. If I win, you attend the ball and I don’t hear another complaint until after it’s over.”

“Thorough,” Keith quipped.

“I’ve learned what happens when I’m not,” Shiro shot back with some meaning.

The prince shrugged. “I won’t apologize for my success in dodging my princely responsibilities.”

“Heaven knows I wasn’t asking you to,” Shiro muttered. “Shake on it?”

“Thorough,” Keith repeated a bit more wryly, grasping his friends hand. “Here you are, my good sir.” He tossed a wooden sword to Shiro.

The guard nodded his thanks and took a fighting stance. He understood where Keith’s confidence came from. As they struck and parried, trading ground and feeling each other out, Shiro recalled the great number of times he’d been knocked on his ass while sparring with the prince. He was getting better every day.

But Shiro had been around a little bit longer, and had the good sense to fear the consequences brought about by defying Queen Krolia. He stumbled and cried out, holding on to his arm.

“Shiro? Shiro!” Keith dropped his sword and ran to his side, kneeling down next him. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Shiro sprang to his feet, putting a knee in Keith’s chest and holding the wooden sword to his throat. “Looks like I win. You have a ball to get ready for.”

“You bas-”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Shiro scolded as he stood and dusted himself off. “We shook on it. I recommend running a bath. You look awfully roughed up.”

Keith gave up his protests before he could voice any of them. His bodyguard had quite thoroughly put him in his place. No amount of loopholes and technicalities could get him out of this one. He let his head fall to the ground and stared up at the sky. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

The Marmoran prince made his appearance several hours and one bath later. He emerged from his chambers with a permanent grimace. At the sight of his personal guard waiting for him in the corridor, he turned around in the doorway.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Shiro called after him. “Between you and your mother,” he said with a shrug, “sorry. Your mother’s far more frightening.”

“Believe me, I’ll be having a few choice words with her the moment she returns,” the prince muttered, stalking down the hall.

Shiro rolled his eyes as he kept paced with him. “You look handsome, by the way.”

“I feel ridiculous,” Keith scoffed. “These clothes are ridiculous. This ball is ridiculous.”

“Do I need to lend you a dictionary?”

Keith glared at him. “What’s it even for? So the royals can congratulate themselves for being great royals? Believe me, it’s not that hard of a job.”

“No. The ball is in celebration of our continued good relationship with Altea,” Shiro explained. “Most Alteans expected the treaty to fall apart by now. We’re proving them wrong.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

The guard shrugged again. “You weren’t planning on attending. Why would it have mattered?”

“I would have planned on it if you had just-” Keith stopped walking. “Then what was that in the courtyard? Challenging me to a duel?” He demanded.

Shiro offered the world’s most genuine smile. “I knew you’d be going no matter what. How I got you to realize that was just for me.”

“I should fire you,” Keith threatened.

“You’ve only been threatening me with that since you were eight,” Shiro replied, an edge of sarcasm in his voice. “Now, if we don’t want to be late, I recommend we keep moving, your highness.”

Keith chose to save what little face he had left by storming off without so much as a word. Shaking his head, Shiro followed closely behind. “For politic’s sake, you should probably spend a few minutes with Altea’s crown princess, Allura.”

“Whatever. You can point her out to me after I’ve had a glass of wine,” Keith sighed. “You’ve tricked me into coming to this blasted ball. I’ll play along with your politics. Can I at least sneak in without being announced?”

Shiro wished he could let him have just that one. “If we weren’t the hosting country… Sorry, Keith.”

“No, it’s fine,” the prince muttered. “Did you really think I expected you to say yes?”

The pair came to a stop outside the double doors leading into the ballroom. “Announcing Crown Prince of Marmora Keith, and his personal guard Takashi Shirogane,” Shiro informed the attendant.

The doors opened and Keith cast his gaze around the room. A sea of people–strangers–stood before him. In the narrow space between his entrance and his being announced, he laid eyes on a sight that took his breath away. An Altean, draped in the finest silks, had linked hands with a young girl. The two of them spun to the beat of the music. Keith swore he could hear their laughter from where he was standing. His warm brown skin seemed like it was breathing life into the crowd. As if his obvious joy was infectious.

Two loud knocks happened somewhere in the back of his mind. Some part of him acknowledged them as drawing attention to his entrance. But they were muffled. Unimportant. The Altean and his dance partner paused and looked up. Even across the dance floor, Keith could see the vastness of the ocean, the blueness of the sky sitting in his eyes. He knew they were announcing his name.

For the first time that day, Keith cared what he looked like. His hair was braided neatly down his back. His crown sat carefully atop his head. His clothes were the simplest formalwear he owned. Dark trousers and shirt under a blood red tunic. He couldn’t have looked less like a prince.

Shiro subtly cleared his throat, and reality came crashing down upon him. He was supposed to bow as a greeting to the guests. Keith bowed and wondered if he was supposed to say a few words as well. He looked over the crowd again, but he’d lost the Altean. Another quiet cough and he started walking. A glance over his shoulder told him that had not been the right thing to do. Keith would have to explain at a later time that, tongue-tied as he was on top of his aversion to public speaking, this was the correct course of action.

The music resumed and the ballroom returned to its normal volume. Galran nobles and visiting Alteans nodded their respect as he walked by. Keith suddenly realized several moments too late that his guard had been speaking. “What?”

"Is something the matter with you?” Shiro whispered fiercely. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I’m just- I-” Keith tried and failed to find the beginning of a sentence.

Shiro could have strangled him. “We walk into the ballroom and the moment you lay eyes on the Altean royalty, you turn into a political nightmare.”

“There’s more than one Altean royal attending?” Keith asked.

“What does that matter? What’s going on with you, Keith?”

As he tried to find the words to explain, his eyes wandered. There! Warmth and laughter radiated from the stranger. He truly was captivating. “Who is that?”

Shiro had to follow his gaze. “That is the second Prince of Altea, Lance. His older sister, Crown Princess Allura is just next to him.”

“Lance,” Keith repeated.

All the color drained from Shiro’s face. “My God, you’re lovestruck.”

“What?”

Letting out a sigh, Shiro took a wine glass from a passing tray. “Just go talk to him. I’ll take care of politics tonight.”

“Talk to him?” Keith repeated, snapping out of his daze. “Are you insane?”

Shiro placed his empty glass on another tray. “Probably,” he said, linking arms with the prince and pulling him toward the Alteans. “Let’s go.”

“Princess Allura, Prince Lance, may I say what a pleasure it is to have Your Highnesses with us in Marmora,” Shiro introduced as he approached. He elbowed Keith in the side.

“Pleasure,” Keith mumbled, altogether too focused on his shoes. He felt his ears warm under the gaze of this mysterious Prince Lance.

Allura laughed. “Why, the pleasure is all ours. Please, don’t bother with stuffy titles. This is a ball to celebrate our friendship, after all.”

“Quite right,” Shiro agreed with a smile. The music slowed, and he saw his chance. “Prin- Allura, would you do me the honor of a dance?”

“Of course!”

The two of them moved toward the dance floor. Keith tried to keep his breathing even and not make a complete fool of himself.

“How about you?”

Keith looked up and realized it had been Lance to ask the question. His voice sounded like warm honey. “What?”

“Would you like to dance?” Lance inquired, holding his hand out.

“Yes,” was the only word Keith trusted himself to say.

Lance led him toward the dance floor. A gently hand appeared on his waist. Without meaning to, Keith flinched. “Sorry. Do you mind if I lead?”

“Probably a good idea,” he admitted. “I’m not much of a dancer.”

“You’re a prince,” Lance told him, cocking his head to the side. “What kind of prince doesn’t know how to dance?”

They swayed to the music, waltzing across the floor. “I never said I don’t know how.”

“Just that you aren’t very good?” Lance finished. The humor in his tone was obvious. It sparkled in a way that had Keith enraptured.

“You have the ocean in your eyes,” Keith found himself saying. The words spilled out of his mouth without so much as a second thought. He regretted them the moment he said them.

Lance laughed, spinning Keith out. “And you have the stars in yours,” he said when his hand returned to his waist. “Was that a friendly compliment or are you flirting?”

“I’m attempting to,” Keith replied. “Is it working?”

“It’s not not working,” the other prince said with a wink. “You could stand to talk a bit more.”

Keith racked his brain for interesting conversational topics. Not only did he draw several blanks, he was faced with the stark realization that he does not talk to nearly enough people to have any solid knowledge on the subject. Lance was waiting for him to say something. He panicked.

“I can throw knives blindfolded.”

Lance blinked a few times. “Okay, not what I was expecting, but also I don’t believe you.”

“I can too!” Keith insisted. The song ended. Dancers bowed to their partners. Keith and Lance glared. “If you really don’t believe me, I’ll prove it to you.”

“I’d very much like to see it, since I don’t think you can,” Lance countered, following him out of the ballroom.

The pair of princes marched down to the armory, unnerving the soldier stationed there, and emerged on the practice field. Knives and blindfold in hand, Keith brought Lance over to the targets. He rightly proved the bratty Altean prince wrong over and over again, all the while Lance insisted that it shouldn’t be possible. Each brought up personal feats which qualified them in their own opinions. Keith was right because he’d been training since he was a child. Lance was right because he could actually dance.

They bickered, and they talked, and when a petty fake-argument got out of hand they wrestled a bit. It was certainly a fake argument because both of them laughed as they rolled around in the grass. And, when the night was over, they said their farewells. Keith offered a proper farewell to Princess Allura (as proper a farewell as a prince could manage, with an off-kilter crown and grass stains on his tunic) and a lingering look to her younger brother.

Keith went to bed to bed that night feeling lighter than he ever had in his life.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, Shiro gave the young prince a knowing look. Keith, however, was so unbothered that he was actually smiling. “I assume things went well last night,” he commented.

Keith let out a sigh, completely ignoring his breakfast. “I have a diplomatic mission to Altea in a few weeks. He promised to write.”

“So I guess it was a good thing that you attended the ball,” Shiro went on, a rare self-satisfying smirk on his face.

“Shame I didn’t end up staying that long,” Keith replied as he stirred his eggs around his plate.

Shiro shook his head. “Yes. It’s a real shame.”

For the first time in his career as Keith’s personal guard, he actually had good news to report to Queen Krolia. The prince hadn’t completely massacred his appearance at the ball, and Shiro had covered for him well enough after he’d disappeared. But the real good news was in his own unfounded fears. The Alteans were only a little insulted, and Keith had all but ensured their continued alliance for years to come.

Good news, indeed.


	2. Day 2 - Coffee Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith, exhausted and gay, has a rough time when the hot customer flirts with him.

Keith had never been more exhausted in his life. The bar had kept him late because some asshole thought it was a splendid idea to throw up all over the bathroom and not tell any of the staff. Then Shiro had called him in a panic, because it was his and Adam's two year anniversary tomorrow and the dolt had forgotten to get a present. Cue a caffeine-fueled run to Walmart, accompanied by his dumbass brother, to purchase a photo album for all Shiro's spare copies. Upon finally arriving home, he discovered that his upstairs neighbors had been arguing themselves halfway to a divorce and seemed determined that the whole complex be made aware of it. He spent all of twenty minutes trying to fall asleep before he gave into his lesser self and took a couple doses of NyQuil. The medicine netted him a grand total of two hours of sleep. It felt more like negative twelve. He was completely awake when his alarm went off and felt like death.

The sun was too bright when he stepped outside the apartment, wearing a work shirt that had a stain and two different shoes. Keith wondered if it was because he hadn't noticed or because he hadn't cared. He pondered the answer during his commute until even rational thought proved too exhausting. Fifteen minutes later, he stepped off the bus in a daze and glared at the bright neon sign, declaring this hellhole of a location to be _Beans N' Stuff_ , a local eclectic's personal venture into the coffee business. He didn't usually mind working there. Then again, he didn't usually show up looking paler than a ghost and more interested in digging his own grave than interacting with another human being.

A little bell rang when he opened the door. He paused a moment to glare at it, contemplating the consequences of ripping it from the door frame. Then thinking hurt too much again. He trudged into the back and collected his cap and apron. As he was signing in to the register, a familiar presence appeared over his shoulder. Ignoring it, he finished his task and moved past his coworker to the coffee machine.

Pidge didn't even have time to express their totally expected and completely warranted "you look like shit" before Keith flipped open his thermos, added no less than four shots of espresso, a 5-hour Energy that appeared out of thin air, and filled the rest with black coffee. He closed the lid and downed half the thermos in a few swallows. Pidge amended their statement. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Do not speak to me. I have seen hell and will murder anyone who speaks too loudly," he snapped.

"You know what, that's valid, but Matt isn't here and Coran says I'm not allowed to operate the register," they informed him.

Keith glared at his thermos. "If God exists, he is a cruel being. And as soon as I get some sleep, I'm gonna kick his ass."

"I'll be in the back," Pidge said diplomatically. They weren't touching anything about the situation with a ten foot pole.

Keith sipped his thermos and resigned himself to an eight-hour shift. He opened up shop, took orders, and answered customers' dumb questions like a good little employee. When his thermos was empty, he refilled the same order and chugged it again. To keep a poker face, he tried to think happy thoughts. Like murdering his brother, or maybe his neighbors. The longer he stood listening to out-dated pop songs, he added the owner of the damned shop to the list. Customers came and went in a blur. He thought he remembered Pidge asking if he needed a break, but couldn't recall his answer.

Then _he_ walked in. The most attractive creature to ever grace the earth. A customer that was not quite a regular, but Keith had seen him more than once. He seemed to be nothing more than a harmless flirt, and someone who could only dish it out, at that. But those blue eyes were going to be the death of Keith's gay ass. Just, they were going to be the death of him tomorrow. After he died of exhaustion today.

"I'll have a salted caramel white chocolate mocha with whipped cream."

Though physically repulsed by just hearing how much sugar was in the order, he punched it into the computer and kept a straight face. "Can I get a name for the order?"

"The name's Lance," Handsome Almost-Regular said with what seemed to be a flirty undertone.

Keith nodded and typed the name in. "Your total is $5.67."

Lance paid and Keith informed him that his order would be ready momentarily. Pidge prepared it in record time, and even went so far as to nudge him rather aggressively with her elbow. Keith was both confused and offended. He took the cup to the front counter. "Lance," he called out in a dead monotone.

"You know, that's not how people usually call out my name," Lance purred as he leaned over the counter.

Keith was exhausted, barely functioning, and not paid enough to deal with things like this. He did not think about the words that came out of his mouth. "Sorry, I'll try to sound more disappointed next time."

The look on Lance's face was akin to that of the surprised pikachu meme. Pidge hung out the doorway from the back, shocked beyond belief. Unbothered, Keith handed him the coffee cup, mumbled something about having a nice day, and moved on to helping the next customer. It was not until Lance had left the coffee shop near tears, leaving behind a dumbfounded audience and an exasperated coworker, that Keith's lagging brain finally processed the whole conversation.

"Shit!"

"I think that was some kind of record. Most idiotic gay barista turns away interested party and gives him emotional trauma, all in less than five minutes," Pidge told him.

Keith had thoroughly and completely fucked up. Oh, and he needed a nap.

* * *

By the time he trudged into work the next day, Keith had come to the conclusion that God was not only real, he was also dedicated solely to fucking with him as much as possible. Despite having the night off from bartending, he'd hardly slept, too tormented by the idiocy of his own stupid actions. Pidge had texted to make fun of him no less than seven times, and had undoubtedly told their entire circle of friends about it. At the very least, Matt didn't say anything when he walked in looking like death twice over.

"You want the front or the back today?" Matt asked as Keith signed in.

What if Lance came back? Keith should be working up front so he could apologize. Then, a second, more horrifying thought occurred to him. What if Lance _came back_? He couldn't allow himself to be seen. Lance needed to think that he'd crawled into a hole and died, never to be seen by the general populace again. He would willingly go down in history as the world's dumbest and least functional gay if it meant never having to make meaningful contact with Hot Coffee Customer ever again.

"The back," Keith said solemnly, though it felt more like he was reading out his sentence then answering his coworker's question.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Matt told him, patting him on the shoulder.

Keith resigned himself to a shift with this older, subtler brand of Pidge insults. As he turned to start prepping the machines, he caught Matt whipping out his phone. His coworker typed out, "u owe me 20 bucks" and hit send with a bit too much satisfaction. So Pidge and Matt had taken bets on his answer. Smart of Matt to pick the more cowardly option, he thought to himself as he washed his hands. Dysfunctional gays tended toward dysfunction, after all. He busied himself with cleaning out the coffee pots while Matt opened up shop.

As much as Keith tried to drive the catastrophic events of yesterday from his thoughts, he still flinched every time that damned bell rang. Matt greeted customers like a goddamn proper employee. Something Keith was apparently not. No, he just insulted them and moved on. But only if they flirted with him. Everyone else just got the monotone customer service voice. Lance? Emotional trauma for him, of course. The same train of thought played in his head on a loop as he prepared orders and sent them out. He tried to ignore the handful of female customers that flirted with his coworker and grit his teeth whenever Matt flirted back. Something else he was evidently incapable of.

Just a few hours into his shift, the strangest order came in. A salted caramel white chocolate mocha with whipped cream. Why was that familiar? Had an obnoxious white girl ordered it? Keith racked his brain and found himself drawing a blank. The only thing he remembered was-

Of course! Another look at the screen told him the customer's name was Lance. How many Lance's lived in one city, went to the same coffee shop, and ordered the exact same disgusting sugar-filled drink? Keith prepped the order, determined to make amends with the world's stupidest and most inept attempt at flirting: a bad pun on the coffee cup, written over his phone number. Matt took the coffee from him and handed it to the customer. He prayed to whatever deities were willing to listen that he hadn't just made the second biggest mistake of his life.

Matt found him like that a few seconds later when he stepped into the back for a moment. "Hey Keith, I think that was the guy insulted yesterday," Matt informed him. "Pidge's description was spot on."

"Was it? I had no idea," Keith said with a shrug, preparing the next order.

Disappointed that he'd failed to get a rise out of his coworker (and probably more disappointed that he had nothing to report to his gremlin of a sibling), Matt returned to the front and left him alone for the rest of his shift.

Keith felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Even if Hot Coffee Stranger forever hated his guts for his complete social ineptitude, he'd managed to apologize. Now, of course, there was plenty of room in his chest for anxiety over Lance's response. Would he text? Would he call? Would it be right away? Would he wait? Was he going to report him to the police and get a restraining order? It was truly a coin toss. At the very least, the unsettling feeling in his chest was better than the heavy knowledge of his own stupidity.

Closing came sooner than he expected. Keith waved Matt off as he walked the short distance to the bus stop. As he settled into his seat, his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a text message. From an unknown number. Keith couldn't help the stupid grin that was stuck on his face all the way home.

* * *

Lance let out a huge sigh of relief as he exited the coffee shop. His plan had been to look for the barista through the front window. If it was the same asshole as yesterday, he would walk right on by and mournfully purchase his morning pick-me-up from another shop. He hadn't recognized the employee working, and didn't even see so much as a mullet-shaped hair of He Who Shall Not Be Named. Then, right as he went to take a sip of his delicious, precious coffee, he saw writing.

_I regret yesterday a latte_

_Call me?_

_XXX-XXX-XXXX_

It was the dumbest pickup line he'd ever heard in his life, and some of the competition were pickup lines he himself had used. But it made him laugh. And, now that he thought about it, that barista _had_ looked a little worse for wear. He was definitely cute enough to be given another chance. Any gay idiot who wrote bad coffee puns on a coffee cup was definitely someone Lance could spend some time getting to know. The barista didn't need to know that, though. He'd probably wait a few hours before texting him. And then a few more, just to make him sweat.

Lance took a sip of his coffee, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Maybe he'd even wait a few more after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't yell at me if that's a ridiculous price for what Lance ordered or if what he ordered doesn't make sense, I do not consume the coffee ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	3. Day 3 - ThunderPike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I roll to seduce," Lance said immediately.
> 
> Pidge clamped her hand down over his 20-sided die. "Do not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inaccuracies? In my DnD inspired fic? More likely than you think, seeing as I have played all of one times.
> 
> (Go ahead and ignore the fact that this is a month late. University and this prompt combined forces to kick my ass. But Momma didn't raise no quitter, even if she probably should have tbh)

"That was a close one," Block sighed, collapsing into a heap on the ground.

Shiro and Valayun nodded their agreement, both a little worse for wear but mostly alright. Meklavar, who needed to lean on their axe for support, glared at their remaining party member. "Maybe it wouldn't have been so close if _someone_ had some self-control!"

Pike flinched, his tail lashing out in expression of his discomfort. "You know, I really feel like I'm being called out-"

"You are!" the dwarf screeched. "One mention of the words coin, crystal, or money, and you charge right in without thinking. I'm putting you in time-out."

Pike put his hands on his hips. "Yeah, okay, whatever. You're, like, two feet tall."

The elf and paladin exchanged a look of equal parts exasperation and exhaustion. Shiro stepped forward, putting himself between the arguing party members. "We should focus on finding supplies and a place to rest. Fighting with each other isn't going to get us anywhere."

"Fine," Pike and Meklavar muttered at the same time.

Block hoisted himself to his feet and dusted off his robes. "If memory serves, there's a village a little way's that direction," he pointed with his staff.

"Then we should go that direction," Valayun suggested. "I hope there's a market. I'm almost out of arrows.

The party began walking that direction. "No problemo if there isn't one. I'll just steal some supplies for everyone," Pike bragged.

"What a great way to make everyone in town hate us," Meklavar grumbled.

"Hey," Pike protested, appearing suddenly at the dwarf's side. "Name one time me stealing got us in trouble." The entire party started talking all at once, each bringing up a separate occasion on which his stealing had screwed them over. "Okay, I get it, I said name _one_ time. Geez."

Shiro gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "We didn't mean it like that, Pike."

"Right," Valayun agreed. "We were merely joking around."

"Of course you guys were," Pike replied flatly, shoulders sagging. His ear twitched. Immediately, he snapped to attention and stopped walking. "Did you guys hear that?"

"What, the two seconds of sweet, peaceful silence before you opened your mouth again?" Meklavar shot back.

Pike growled his displeasure. Everyone else stopped walking and looked at him over their shoulders. "I'm serious. I just heard something."

"Probably just an animal," Shiro assured the party.

Block began biting at his fingernails, looking every which way in a panic. "Or a monster!"

"Or it's nothing," the dwarf insisted. "You hear things all the time. It's because you've got ears."

Pike gave up. "Fine. But if we get mugged, or maimed, or murdered-"

"Look out!" A new voice ordered.

A mysterious figure appeared out of the shadows, and it was running right for them. All any of them could make out was a slim build and a long braid, tossed around behind them. The five of them--except for Pike, who was obviously mesmerized by the mysterious stranger--cast their eyes about for signs of a threat. Just as they did, a pack of wild apes came charging at them from the surrounding trees.

Everyone drew their weapons, though Valayun complained about not having enough arrows. The apes weren't very powerful, but having a distracted party member did a lot to hurt their chances. The stranger felled a few beasts then, upon realizing that Pike was out of order at the moment, launched himself at the ape nearest the thief.

Another moment, and the party was once again safe. Before anyone else could open their mouths, however, Pike sidled right up to the stranger.

* * *

"I roll to seduce," Lance said immediately.  
  
Pidge clamped her hand down over his 20-sided die. "Do _not_."  
  
"You're not even DM-ing this campaign," he complained.  
  
"The young lad is correct," Coran agreed, fiddling with his mustache. "But I believe Pidge speaks for the party when she voices her concerns over your bard-like behavior, my boy."  
  
Lance gasped. "I'll have you know that Pike frequently employs flirtations as a means of-"  
  
"I roll to trip his sorry ass," Pidge interrupted.

* * *

Meklavar tripped the flirtatious thief before he could say anything stupid.

"Who are you?" Shiro asked, stepping in as party leader.

The stranger turned to face them. For the first time, everyone got a good look at him. It was a half-elf ranger with dark clothing, a drawn sword, and a sheathed dagger. Distrusting eyes studied the lot of them, flicking from one person to the next. Discerning threats. Picking apart weaknesses.

"I'm just passing through," he said mysteriously.

"Yeah, we gathered that," Pike huffed. "What's your name, genius?"

"And what are you doing in these woods by yourself?" Meklavar piped up.

Block nodded his agreement. "Yes, exactly what I was thinking. These woods are dangerous, man!"

"My animal companion has been taken from me," the stranger answered. "I heard rumors that the culprit is a wizard named Oklarth."

"What a coincidence," Valayun commented. "We're hunting down Oklarth as well!"

The stranger cocked an eyebrow. "Why are you after him?"

"A family heirloom was taken from my village," Meklavar explained. "Supposedly Oklarth has taken it."

"I have an idea! Why don't you come with us?" Block invited. "You know what they say, the more the merrier, right?"

"I've never worked with others before," he admitted, unsure.

Shiro offered a reassuring smile. "If you come with us, the chances of recovering your animal are a lot better than if you're by yourself."

"I suppose that's true." After another moment of deliberation, the mysterious stranger nodded. "I'll join you."

Pike sighed. "Finally, we've reached a consensus. Can we get your name now?"

"Thunderstorm Midnight," he introduced.

* * *

"Wait a minute, hold up," Lance sputtered. "U-turn. _That's_ your name?"

Keith bristled. "Yes."

"Guys," Shiro chided. "You're getting side-tracked."

* * *

"Well, _Thunderstorm_ ," Pike said with some bite, "would you happen to know if there's a village nearby? We need to resupply before we take on... well, anybody."

The ranger nodded again. "There's a town just a few minutes' travel from here."

"Lead the way," Meklavar invited.

True to Thunderstorm's word, they arrived in a quaint little town within minutes. The party compared notes and decided to split up. Valayun and Shiro headed toward the market to replenish their weapons. Meklavar and Block went off in search of food, potions, and anything else interesting. Pike and Thunderstorm? Stuck together searching for information on Oklarth, seeing as Pike was a thief and Thunderstorm was incredibly intimidating.

"This is stupid," Pike complained, kicking at the dirt road. "Where are we even supposed to start looking for dirt on Oklarth?"

"Oklarth?" a passing townsperson asked. "That's the wizard that cursed my family."

The two of them exchanged a look, then turned their attention back to the ancient woman in front of them. "What else do you know about him?"

"Why, the rotten thing is holed up in that there mountain," she replied, pointing with a trembling, wrinkly finger. "Last I heard, his lair was at the very top of it."

The old woman waddled away, grumbling to herself. Pike shrugged. "That was easy."

"We should keep asking around and see if there's anything else to learn about him," Thunderstorm suggested.

"Pshh, no way," he scoffed. "He lives at the top of that mountain. Sounds like all the info there is to me."

Thunderstorm scowled. "What if it isn't? We could be walking into some kind of trap!"

"And that's why we have me," Pike said, pointing to himself. "To deactivate the traps."

The pair of them continued to bicker as they wandered through town. Eventually, they met up with the rest of the party. Pike relayed the bit of information they'd learned.

"That isn't very specific," Valayun commented.

Thunderstorm sent a pointed look in a certain assassin's direction. "Gee, I wish _somebody_ had thought to gather more information."

"Oh, bite me," Pike shot back.

Shiro physically placed himself between the two of them. "Enough. We have no idea what's in that mountain. We should spend our energy coming up with a plan instead of arguing."

"I say let 'em argue," Meklavar muttered. "Maybe they'll annoy the enemy to death."

"Meklavar," Block scolded.

Valayun face-palmed. Shiro looked a little bit like he wished he'd just minded his own business the day he ran into a certain dwarf and cleric in that tavern. Meklavar seemed two seconds from a blown fuse and Block was the most distressed he'd ever been in his life. (And that was saying something). Thunderstorm and Pike? They were having a glaring contest. It was exactly like a staring contest, but twice as petty and half as productive.

Pike gave in first. "Fine. What's the plan, Shiro?"

"We can assume this will turn out a lot like our first opponent," he began.

"Pike messing up included?"

The thief scoffed. "Pike messing up not included. That was a one-time thing. It happened once. Uno. Just one time."

The entire party took a giant breath to contradict him, again, when Thunderstorm reappeared. No one had noticed him missing. "There's supposedly a secret passage that leads right to the heart of Oklarth's lair. It's protected by some kind of ancient riddle, but it's that or an entire mountain of monsters. Are any of you good with puzzles?"

All hands pointed toward Meklavar. The dwarf dusted off their gloved fingernails and studied them, though there was no way they could see them. "I've had my experience with them."

Thunderstorm wasn't in on the joke. "Right. That's what I asked."

"Well, how do we know your secret passage isn't a trap?" Pike questioned immediately.

"I thought you were here to deactivate the traps," Thunderstorm countered.

"Yeah, well, what if we run into Oklarth while we're looking for it?" he insisted. "Or it's even more heavily guarded than his dungeon?"

"I know a cloaking spell. If one of you could lend me a few things, I can muffle our footsteps," Thunderstorm said patiently. "Assuming you can keep your big mouth shut."

Pike's jaw fell open. "That is slander! You haven't even known us a day and-"

"Thunderstorm's idea sounds great," Meklavar interrupted. "Let's vote on it."

Shiro seized the opportunity for diplomacy. "Perfect. Everyone in favor going straight up the mountain?" Pike gave a certain half-elf the stink eye as he raised his hand. Block tentatively raised his own hand. "And those for looking into this secret passage?" The remaining party members raised their hands. "Sorry guys. It's four to two."

"For the record, my official opinion is that Thunderstorm is wrong no matter what," Pike grumbled.

"Come on, buddy," Block said, patting his back as the party began walking toward the woods once more. "Not worth arguing about."

They stumbled through the woods for only a few minutes before their newest member stopped them. "The villager I spoke said the path started beyond those dead trees." They followed his finger and noted the especially creepy leafless husks, with threatening symbols carved into it. "I'm going to cast my spell now. It will only work for so long, so we can't afford any distractions or delays." Pike turned his nose up the other direction when the half-elf sent a pointed look toward him.

Another fifteen or so minutes, and the trees started to thin out. The party spilled into a clearing just as Thunderstorm warned them his spell would be wearing off soon. In the center was a large stone, with strange rune-like characters shifting around and jumping over another. Some faded in and out. Others glowed blue. They could all feel the ancient magic in it. Eventually, the writing translated itself into the common tongue.

" _I am the beginning of the end, the end of every place. I am the beginning of eternity, the end of time and space. What am I_?" Meklavar read aloud. "What the heck is that supposed to mean?"

Shiro stroked his chin in thought. "It's a very vexing riddle, indeed. Perhaps we should meditate on the answer?"

"Bo-ring," Pike complained, dusting off a nearby rock and taking a seat. He slumped forward onto his knees, resting his chin in his hand. "Shortstack, what's your best guess?"

"Gee, I sure would like some peace and quiet to figure it out," the dwarf shot back.

Valayun looked deep in thought for a moment. "I've got it! It's a circle." The group looked at her. "What?"

"No offense," Block said, "but maybe we should leave the riddles to Meklavar."

"It's a good guess," she protested, a little put-out.

"Circles don't have an end," Meklavar pointed out. "That's why they're circles."

Valayun deflated even more. "I suppose you're right."

"You're awful quiet, Thunderstorm," Pike crowed.

"Because I'm thinking," he snapped.

"Guys," Shiro warned. This time, it didn't even have any heart in it. His poor, tired soul just wanted some rest.

"Maybe it's death?" Meklavar mused aloud.

Block thought about it for a moment and nodded along. "That sounds like it could be it!"

"I don't know-"

Pike's protest when unheeded. The rest of the party seemed content with Meklavar's guess.

"So, what? Do I just talk to it?" the dwarf asked uncertainly.

"Worth a shot."

Meklavar took a step toward the stone. Taking a deep breath, they spoke as loudly and clearly as they could, "The answer is death."

They all waited with bated breath. Nothing happened for a few seconds. But then, the writing turned back into runes and glowed an angry red. 

"Uh oh," Meklavar mumbled.

"I don't think that-"

Whatever Shiro had been about to say was cut off when the ground disappeared beneath their feet. The six of them were free-falling in pitch black. The ground closed back up above their heads. There was a lot of screaming. The chasm turned into a slope, and the free fall turned into a somewhat gentle descent. The stone under them was smooth, like they weren't the first party this had happened to. Finally, after what seemed like forever, they collided with the ground in varying degrees of pain. No light appeared to aid their vision. Valayun cast a familiar spell, and an arrow from her newly-replenished quiver lit up the darkness.

"I don't think that was the right answer," Shiro finished solemnly.

"You think?" Pike huffed. "It was- Oh my gods, what was that?"

"Again, Pike, the ears," Meklavar exploded. "None of us have very good hearing. You have to answer your own stupid question."

Thunderstorm stood and brushed off his pants. "That sounded like a bug," he commented. "A big one, too."

"How big?" Block asked, already shaking.

"Like, I didn't even know that's what bugs sounded like big," Pike answered as he suddenly appeared behind Shiro's shoulder, a bit pale. "It's like clicking. Or chattering. Ugh." He shuddered when he heard it again.

"It's getting closer," Thunderstorm warned.

Valayun held the arrow higher, but the cavern was too large for it to do very much. "I can't see anything."

"Trust me, that's a good thing," Thunderstorm assured her.

Just as he said it, the room erupted with light. Torches lining the walls blazed into existence. Rapidly adjusting to the new setting, the party realized that they were standing in some kind of arena. The ceiling arced high above them, made of solid stone. In the center of the room, not that far from them, was a giant pill bug. Which didn't sound like a very menacing monster, except that it was twice as tall as them and had too many eyes. Half a dozen giant feelers longer than Shiro's arm (longer than his sword, probably) moved wildly through the air, touching the ground on occasion. It's mouth was huge. Definitely the perfect size to devour even the bulky, broad-shouldered cleric of the party.

"Uh oh," Maklavar said again.

A dozen miniature pill bugs burrowed out from underground, each about the same size as the average person. Block took the opportunity to dive behind Shiro as well. "Don't let them eat me."

"Valayun, Block, and Pike, take out the little guys. Meklavar and Thunderstorm, help me with the big one."

"Right," they all agreed at once.

They took their respective positions and charged the bugs.

Pike darted back and forth between them, disappearing again as soon as he paused to slash at a bug. He quickly discovered their thick armor made it more than a little difficult to deal any damage with a passing blow. He successfully distracted the few bugs that showed any interest in the other half of their party. They had their hands full. Valayun dutifully aimed for chinks in their armor, arrow after arrow disappearing into leg joints and frothy mouths. Block called for her to look out, and she darted away just in time to dodge a bug that had rolled up and charged her. The cleric used spells until his mana ran out, but they had little effect on that thick armor. In the end, he resorted to swatting at them with his staff.

Meklavar, too short to reach much else, took to smashing the giant bug's legs. Thunderstorm climbed on top of it and ran up and down its back, jamming his sword between its armor plates. Shiro distracted it's face, crossing swords with those giant feelers. The half-elf was knocked to the ground when the giant bug rolled itself up and took a trip around the arena.

"This isn't working," Thunderstorm yelled over the noise.

"We need a plan," Valayun agreed.

"And fast," Block wailed, running from a charging pill bug.

Pike dove out the way as another smaller bug rolled past him. Except the bug hit a rock and got some air time. It landed with enough force to pry the coil open. Dazed, the bug's (disgusting) legs splayed in the air, desperate to flip over. Seeing his chance, he darted over and cut a huge gash down its stomach.

"Guys, their stomachs are soft!" Pike announced.

"Secret!" Block cast with the last of his mana.

* * *

The six of them abandoned Coran at the table and huddled in the hallway to discuss their plans. The DM sat up straighter in his seat and peered over at the group.

"No cheating," Pidge accused.

Coran huffed and twiddled with his mustache until they nodded and returned to the table. "I hate it when you use that spell."

"Tough luck," Lance said with a grin.

* * *

"Secret received," the party said in unison.

Shiro and Meklavar continued to distract the large bug. Thunderstorm joined the efforts to get rid of the mini-mes. Block and Valayun paired up to trick the bugs onto their back, with Block acting as bait and Valayun lining their bellies with arrows. Between Thunderstorm's skill with a sword and Pike's knack for reappearing in opportune places, they made quite the team. The thief lured the bugs over a rock, where a certian ranger was waiting to gut them like a fish. In record time, they'd dispatched all the little pill bugs.

"Now the big one," Shiro said. "Charge!"

It was a great deal more difficult to get the larger bug to roll up again. It had already seen what they did to its smaller companions. But Pike was nothing if not skilled at eliciting annoyance. He poked and prodded and jabbed until that bug was good and angry. But right when it was time to get out of the way, he tripped over a protruding rock. The giant bug rolled itself into a circle and started coming his way. Just as Pike was about to become part of the floor, Thunderstorm darted forward and pulled him to safety. The bug rolled right into their their trap, accidentally crashing into the wall. Valayun fired an explosive arrow. Meklavar pounded its guts into good. It was Shiro who delivered the killing blow in the end. The bug let out one last monstrous screech before lying still.

Thunderstorm stood and dusted himself off. Again. Then, he offered a hand to Pike. "Good job out there."

"Right," Pike said by way of agreement, taking his hand. He waited for the insult as Thunderstorm helped pull him up.

"We make a pretty good team."

"Right," he said again, though surely his cheeks were a little red.

Meklavar let out a whoop. "We did it! That was awesome."

"No thanks to you," Thunderstorm commented flatly. "I thought you were supposed to be good with riddles."

"Death was a perfectly plausible answer," the dwarf protested. "I-"

Pike, shaking himself to clear his head, appeared next to Meklavar. He leaned gingerly onto their helmet. "Except that the answer was the letter e?" Meklavar shoved him off, but the rest of the party just and stared. "What? Beginning of the end? End of every place? Eternity, time, and space? They all start or end with e."

No sooner had he said it, the wall crumbled away to reveal a tunnel, lit with the same torches from the arena. Shiro gave Pike a pat on the shoulder. "Good job figuring it out."

"I'll have you know I have the brains, brawns, and the beauty," Pike purred, swiping his hair back.

Thunderstorm and Meklavar groaned in unison.

"Let's see where that tunnel leads before it closes again," Valayun suggested. 

"Or before any more bugs show up," Block agreed.

The party started walking toward the tunnel entrance. Just as they were about to step inside, a gust of wind blew at them, carrying the echo of evil laughter.

* * *

"Well, I think that's enough for one day," Coran announced.

The whole table moaned and groaned and protested. "Really? But that was such a big cliffhanger!" Pidge cried.

"We have been here for hours," Shiro pointed out.

"Come on," Hunk soothed. "We still have some programming to do before Rover's done."

Pidge huffed and put on a pouty face. "Okay..." The two grabbed their things and showed themselves out of the apartment.

Shiro stood and stretched. "That was a really good session, Coran. The last bit had me on the edge of my seat."

"Why thank you, lad," he chortled. "All in a day's work for a Dungeon Master as skilled and prestigious as myself."

Allura rolled her eyes. "I have a few projects to finish before the work week starts. I'll be seeing you all next Saturday." She collected her bags and left as well.

Without a word, Keith rose from his seat and practically fell onto the couch. Lance started picking up empty snack bowls and putting them into the sink. He helped Coran pack away his DM supplies, careful to avert his eyes from personal notes written in margins so as not to spoil the campaign. He sent Coran off, and Shiro left a few minutes later. Letting out a happy little sigh, he stretched his arms above his head and plopped himself on the couch next to Keith.

"No," came the muffled protest, buried beneath pillows.

"Oh, are you still pouting, big baby boo?" Lance asked with mock concern. Keith removed a pillow to glare at him. "Seriously, babe, you're still mad?"

Keith shot into a sitting position. "Am I still mad?" he demanded. "Am I still mad? You assholes played D&D without me! Yes, I'm still mad. I had to make a whole new character because you guys accidentally triggered the apocalypse and started over!"

"In our defense, you were on study abroad," Lance tried to say, only to be smothered by a pillow halfway through.

"You shut your mouth," Keith huffed. "Play D&D without me again, and you'll have to play your character through a Ouija board."

"Yes, dear."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tired? Boring? Cliche? WiLdLy inaccurate? Over-used riddle that everyone knows the answer to? At least you just had to read it. I sat here for weeks writing the darn thing.
> 
> Also, does Pike have a tail? I rewatched the episode just to write this and I have no clue. He does now.
> 
> Shoutout to my absolute bestie for answering all my dnd questions to the best of her ability, she is a saint and a scholar.


End file.
